He smiled down at me, and brushed the hair out of my eyes. He said that I had finally pleased God. Then he pushed the gag back in my mouth. And he went down and pushed the pin through my clit. And he left me there like that, for the rest of the day, screaming.

I finally stopped screaming, I don't know when. I just drifted, blind in the dusty darkness. He would always find me, always make me do whatever he wanted, always hurt me. He enjoyed pain, enjoyed watching it in other people. I. . .gave up. There was nothing I could do. And that's when I heard the doorbell. Even up there, I could just hear the voices at the door, and I recognized Josh's voice. He had come for me, after all, but it was too late. I tried to warn him tell him where I was but I was gagged. The voices faded, and I fell into the darkness.

Sometime later, I felt an aching, gnawing pain and woke up. He was standing at the foot of the table, pulling the pins out and pushing my lips back through the hole. He told me that Josh had come and asked for my hand in marriage. I said I needed time to consider the offer, he chuckled, and asked Josh to come back in two days.

He unstrapped me from the table and helped me sit up. It hurt to close my legs, both from the muscle strain and from the damage to my pussy lips, but I managed it. Then he put a little padded bed desk on my lap, with a piece of my notepaper, and pushed a pen into my hand. I was to write down exactly what he said - I was to tell Josh to meet me in the woods, where he usually went hunting, tomorrow at three o'clock. I wrote the words automatically, my mind blank, and I signed it at the bottom. Then he pushed me back onto the table, strapped me carefully into place, and covered me with a blanket. I stayed up there for another five days, doing whatever he wanted when he came to see me.

When I finally came down, I found out about Josh. He had gone hunting, his mother said between sobs in our front parlor, and must have slipped near a gully. Josh's body had been found at the bottom of it, half his side blown away in the shotgun blast. His funeral had been the day before. She sniffled and said she understood why I couldn't come, being as sick as I had been. I shouldn't feel bad about it - Josh would understand, too. Then I remembered the note and realized that my weakness had killed him, that if I had resisted he could still be alive.

I sat there, silently watching as he held Mrs. Petersson's hand and patted it. Then he turned his head and smiled at me. And I knew I would never get away."

I stopped the tape again, the sick feeling returning to my stomach. After this it all made sense, her actions, the way she always backed down and those looks of fear always out of all proportion to what I was doing to her. And above all there was that question, "Why me?" Any kidnap victim may think it but they usually refocus on the more basic questions of survival. In Caroline's case? Well to be tormented by one maniac was bad enough but by two unrelated individuals? I could see what she was thinking, did she attract them in some way. I scratched my head remembering back to my first sight of her. I was sure I'd been attracted to her amazing good looks but was that true? Could I have instead reacted subconsciously to some quirk, some submissive body language that marked her as a victim? Was it important?

I looked again at Conway's picture. He was a large stocky man with thin graying hair and a thick curly beard. In his middle to late fifties I thought and more than a match for a terrified girl and her mother. Then I thought of tall, lanky, naive, Josh -he hadn't really stood much of a chance either. I looked at myself in the mirror. My father's strong Irish temper had already brought a flush to my face and once again I thanked my kind gentle grandfather for contributing his strong Russian genes through my mother. Heavy, agile and resilient I knew He would have a harder time with me. Even then I knew that there would have to be a reckoning, that a slave can have only one master. He was a sadist, but Maggie said I was a closet sociopath, and I was infinitely patient. When we met it would be at a time and place of my choosing and I knew I would take great delight in crushing him.

It was almost time to wake Caroline I started towards the door when the phone rang. Puzzled I answered it but with the exception of a few booming noises there seemed to be no one there. I was preparing coffee when it rang again.

"Hello?"

"Huuumph."

"I'm sorry?"

"Oomph Hee!"

"Sorry?"

"Ummph!" More insistent this time and my brain suddenly clicked.

"Maggie? Is that you?"

"Mmmmm!"

"Don't tell me, you decided to try self bondage and now you can't get free?" There was an embarrassed silence.

"Mmmmph"

"Ok, I'll be there in two hours."

"Ummmphhhh!"

"I'm sorry that's the best I can do. I don't live in Boston remember! If you like I can call the fire department for you?"

"Nnnnmmm!"

"Was that no? Grunt once for yes twice for no."

"Mmmm.Mmmmm!"

"Ok about two hours then, try to sit quietly until I get there."

Nine in the morning and already a freaky day. I looked at Conway again, at those cold dead fish eyes and shuddered. Then I headed off to see my slave.

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